


I'll Dodge Your Punches and Escape

by kpopoppa



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Eren is abusive, M/M, Marco saves jean, OR IS IT, Pastel!Eren, a few tags ill add later, any way sad, connie and sasha are married tho, domestic abuse, dont wanna spoil my ideas haha, idek, it gets hella sad beware, punk!jean, that cute, we'll see mwhahah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3830959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kpopoppa/pseuds/kpopoppa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has been in a relationship with this abusive bastard for three fucking years. Three years of pain and tears and nobody to go to, when Marco Bodt decides to waltz into Jean's life, it's certainly a shock. Nobody would suspect such a colorful person could be so cruel, but Marco does, but will he be able to save Jean?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi im really bad at summeries but here he go

PROLOGUE

 

"Shut the fuck up!"  
He screams, his fist connecting with my face, blood spilling from my mouth. I want to fight back, but he's stronger than me, he'll win. Looks can be so deceiving. Him and his pastel clothes and stupid fucking flower crowns, but he's strong, so strong. I look like I could beat the shit out of him, but I can't.  
A cry escapes me and in return he knees me in the stomach, making me double over. He kneels down and roughly grabs my faces, forcing me to look in his eyes, the ones that used to be filled with love, but are now filled with rage and sick hatred;  
"This is what you get for being a fucking cow! I told you to call me whenever you go out and to tell me EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE!"  
His breath stinks of alcohol, I fucking hate booze. It ruined our relationship and turned the man I once loved into a fucking monster. I went out with a couple of friends for an hour, I forgot to call him, I thought he would be okay, I wasn't gone long. I was so fucking wrong. The minute I walk through the door, he starts.  
"I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!"  
He screams. I feel fresh tears roll down my cheeks as his fist connects with my face once more.


	2. Toxic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the drinking increased, it all turned toxic.

I quietly open the front door and look at my watch. If I’m lucky, my ‘boyfriend’ Eren should be out. I use air quotes for the word boyfriend for a reason. We used to be in love, but a mix of alcohol and rage has distorted our feelings from love to hatred. We met in our first year of college and moved in the year after. Late last year was when Eren’s drinking spiked and our relationship died. I hate him, but I can’t escape. Last time I tried to he almost killed me, found me at my parents’ house, dragged me back home and beat me unconscious. I look around the small house, no other signs of life evident. I sigh in relief, I can start on dinner in peace. I walk into the kitchen, gagging at the strong scent of alcohol. I throw away the empty bottles and place the groceries on the counter. I’m playing it safe, making something I know he’ll like. Maybe it’ll be ok tonight. I put the pan on the stove and fill it with water, nothing difficult, he just expects food, not a gourmet meal, thank god. I look at the picture of Eren and I from two years ago and feel a twinge of sadness come over me. It was so good in the beginning, he was never mean, and we were so in love. Why did it turn so toxic? No all he does is drink, beat me, and demand sex out of me. I roll up the sleeves of my leather jacket and look and the fresh bruises, some are hickeys, and others are from his fist.

 

The water starts to bubble and steam erupts from the pan, rattling the lid. I put the pasta in and start on the sauce. I use the canned stuff, it’s easier and tastes better. Plus, all I have to do is heat it up. I leave the food cooking on the stove top and walk over to the bench and sit. I’m so fucking tired. It’s a little hard to sleep next to a monster. I remember the first night we slept in the same bed was one of the best nights. We made love, then fell asleep in each other’s arms. I feel warm tears spill down my cheeks as I remember how it used to be. No. If he comes home and sees me like this, he’ll beat me for sure. Maybe I can be free tonight. I look down at my watch again. I have twenty minutes until he gets home. I know I still love him, but not who he is now, the old him, before he turned into the monster he is today. He looks so fucking innocent with his stupid flower crowns and pink shirts (I found them cute once, back when he was cute), but he’s strong, stronger than me. I on the other hand look tough, but I guess I’m not if this is what I live with. I’ve taken my piercings out, they always get torn out when he beats me and I can’t keep getting them stitched back. Shame really, I like them a lot. Maybe if I get out of this I’ll start wearing them again.

 

I dish up the food and look at the clock again, anxiety pooling at the pit of my stomach. He’ll be home any second now. He’s always angry and always drunk. He doesn’t go out and work, no, that’s my job, he goes out to bars and pubs all day, drinks, comes home at 6, drinks more and beats me or whatever. I hear the door rattling and open. Why can’t he just stay at the bar?  
“Jean, you home?”  
He yells from the front door, voice slurred, drunk of course.  
“Yeah, I made you dinner.” He comes staggering through the kitchen door. Flower crown in hand. He throws it on the ground and sits at the table and starts eating the food. He stares at me.  
“Sit down and eat you fucking slut.”  
Says him, he’s the one that fucks all the girls he can at night clubs. I don’t say anything though, instead I sit down and listen. The hot sauce burns my mouth, but I don’t care, he gives me worse. 

 

“How was your day?” I ask, voice small. He yells at me if I don’t act like things are normal. According to him they are. He just grunts, standing up.  
“We got any whisky?” I sigh inwardly, I knew I should have bought some more, but I didn’t realise how much he really did drink until I got home, when it was too late.  
“No.” I say, closing my eyes, knowing what comes next. I hear heavy footsteps coming my way.  
“What was that?” He asks, bringing his face close to mine. I open my eyes, and look into his. They’re glazed over, emotionless.  
“I said, we don’t have any whiskey left.” His face twists into a look of pure rage. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I blink back tears, they’ll only make it worse.  
“Why did you buy any on the way home, huh?” He yells, roughly grabbing my by the wrist and dragging me into the kitchen.  
“Look at this!” He screams louder this time, motioning to the cupboard.  
“Nothing, what do you expect me to drink now, I have nothing.” That’s a lie. There’s plenty. Just no whiskey.  
“I’m sorry, Eren.”  
I say, voice shaking. He growls, clenching his fist.  
“Sorry isn’t good enough anymore, Jean.” His fist collides with my stomach, winding me and sending me to my knees and then smashes an empty bottle over my head. I try and regain my breath when he shouts.  
“I’ll be back later, buying more whiskey.” Stomps to the door, and slams it shut after him, leaving me on the kitchen floor, winded, and once again, heartbroken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys! I hope you enjoy.


	3. Blood, Sweat and Freckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in a year, Jean and Eren have a fully sober conversation. It doesn't go as well as Jean would have hoped, the moment not leaving his mind. But the cute freckled boy with sad eyes in the cafe is also occupying his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here chapter two ^^ I tried to make this one longer.

I stay sitting on the kitchen floor, warm tears streaming down my face. I bury my face in my hands, bruises blossoming on my stomach and face. I slowly get up off the floor and stagger into the downstairs bathroom. I need to get out. Of this house, this relationship. I need to start over. Maybe I should run to Mexico, maybe then I can escape him. I look in the mirror. My hair is limp and un-styled, I’m sporting a black eye, and new bruises are coming up on my stomach. I wince at the sight of midsection. I’ve hardly eaten lately, due to stress, and my stomach’s started to concave and my ribs and hip bones jut out too far. I look at my face, ignoring the bruises and cuts. I guess I’m pretty decent looking. Amber eyes, (usually) nice skin, and light brown, almost dirty blonde hair. Only thing I would change about it my face is it’s rather, well, long. But other than that, I can’t really complain. On my forehead, a gash is oozing blood, trails of red staining my face. I wet a towel and gently press it against the cut. I hardly feel the pain as I grab out a packet of Band-Aids, and start applying them to my body like a child would apply stickers to a piece of paper. How in the world does Eren manage to scratch me so badly? After I finish cleaning myself up, I trudge into Eren and I’s shared room, and fall into a restless sleep.

I wake up the next morning and see Eren next to me, fast asleep. I sit up and smile. He looks so peaceful, so beautiful. I haven’t woken up to him in a while. Tears fill my eyes. Seeing him like this is nice, but it also hurts me. It reminds me of the good times and makes me realise I still fucking love him. I don’t WANT to leave him anymore. I’m prepared to deal with his bullshit, because I never fell out of love with him, he just changed. He stirs and my heart throbs. He could be sober. For the first fucking time in a year, I might see him sober. He cracks open an eye, shuts it again, groans, and rolls over. I’m shaking, staring at him.  
“Ugh, what time is it?” My heart skips a beat, tears well up in my eyes.  
“10 am.” I reply, voice wavering. He laughs a little.  
“Too early for a hangover.” He sits up and looks at me, eyes widening as he does.  
“Wha-what happened to you, Jean?” He asks, taking in my beaten up exterior. Tears roll down my cheeks.  
“Eren,”  
I start, I’m hyperventilating.  
“You did this to me. You always do this to me.” He stares at me, then my words register.  
“I did this to you?”  
He asks, voice shaking slightly. I close my eyes and nod.  
“How long?”  
Fuck.  
“A year or so.” His face falls, along with the welled up tears in his eyes. He says nothing more, he just gets out of bed, and quite literally runs out of the house, shattering my already broken heart even more. I stare at the doorway, blinded by tears, and grab his flower crown, resting on his night stand. This isn’t what was meant to happen. We were going to move to a state where we could wed, get married, live out our lives together. I still have this false hope we could. But I know this will never get better. It changed him. The Eren I loved has gone. Even sober, he’s changed. I sigh deeply and slowly get up out of bed, placing Eren’s flower crown on my head. He has so many of these. We have a draw full of them. He also owns a lot of pink sweaters, but mind you, he’s a lot stronger than he looks. I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on full heat. After a minute, steam is rising and the tap is making that annoying squealing sound it makes whenever the pipes get too hot. I strip off and step in, relishing the warmth, before hastily turning on the cold. The water gets to almost boiling temperature. I can handle it, I’m used to pain, but I don’t need third degree burns. I wash myself and vow to forget about Eren today, pretend I don’t know him, that I live alone. Turning off the shower, I wrap the soft towel around my waist, and go find some clothes that still fit me.

I must have lost 15 pounds these last couple month, none of my 29 inch pants fit me anymore, way too big, and I’ll have to wear a belt for once. Although it certainly fits with my style, I hate belts, they’re uncomfortable and I never needed too. I rifle through one of Eren’s drawer, pulling out a simple black belt. This will do I guess. I look through the closet, all my ‘skinny’ jeans don’t really serve their purpose anymore, but anyway, I guess black will do right now, reflects my soul. I look at my impressive collection of spiked leather jackets and black tee-shirts. If those spikes were actually sharps, they might be good self-defence, but at their time of purchase, my situation was very much different. 

After putting on clothes that somewhat decently fit me, I go see what I can do about my face. Bruises and cuts cover it. Damn it. I wish I lived with a girl, then maybe I could try cover some of these bruises with concealer or whatever that shit is called. I guess there’s nothing I can do, so I move onto my hair. I haven’t styled it in a while, so why not make the effort today. I scoop some of the gel into my hand a work my hair into something resembling a quiff. Good enough, I doubt Eren takes much notice of how well my hair is styled. I laugh at how stupid I look. 2 sizes too big clothing, bruises and cuts scattered on my face, and a bad quiff. Whatever, I was never going to get scouted for modelling. I actually really wanted to be a model at one point, but when I went to apply, they denied my straight away. You guessed it. My face was too long, and because of how my features lay out, they couldn’t really photo-shop it to be smaller. After that I just gave up. So I went to College for a year and a half, but then when Eren started drinking and lost his job, we needed a solid income, so I had to drop out and get a job at this sandwich shop down in the main street. Not a lawyer’s income, but it gets us by, barely. I work 6 days a week 9am to 6 am. That lets us pay the bills, shop for food and support Eren’s drinking problem. Brilliant. Today is Sunday, my one day off. With nothing to do, and $10 cash, nothing much I can do today. I guess I could go to Sasha’s café, it’s pretty close to home, and she’s a friend of mine, gives me cool discounts. I could buy a whole meal with just $10 with the amount she takes off my bill. Maybe she knows I’m struggling? Probably not. I’ve told no one. Not even my best friend, Connie. My family don’t know, my friends don’t know, and apparently Eren didn’t know. 

I head down stairs and grab the house keys. Eren’s taken our car to the pub today. Please don’t let him crash. He always drink drives, and most of the time, it’s not the drunk driver killed in the accident, and it’s always the innocent person. Tragic. I step out the door and the cold air hits me. I wish I had a warmer jacket, although stylish, my current attire isn’t exactly winter friendly. I start my short walk to the café, taking in the surprisingly very pretty surroundings. I live in a very small town, with very few residents, and a couple very cute shops. And of course, the pub. I pass Eren’s pub, avoiding the windows, and walk another block to the café. I peer inside. Not crowed, as usual. Only people I can see are Connie, Sasha, and another guy I’ve never seen before. I walk in and get a closer look. He’s tanned, with freckles covering his nose and cheeks, black, middle parted hair, and gorgeous chocolate brown eyes.  
“Jean!”  
Sasha call out to me, her face morphing into one of confusion, then worry when she sees my face.  
“What happened to you?!”  
She asks, rushing over to me.  
What am I meant to say? My boyfriend beats me?  
“Got into a fight with some punk from the pub. It’s nothing serious.”  
I laugh it off. She cocks her head.  
“You don’t drink, Jean.”  
I used to have the odd beer, but when Eren started, I was majorly turned off alcohol, haven’t had a drop in over a year.  
“I was picking up Eren, he said he was a little too drunk to drive, so I came to pick him up.”  
I fake on a smile. As long as Sasha wasn’t actually there, which knowing her, I doubt, my story is pretty solid.  
“Ok, thank god. I thought it was something more serious!”  
She runs back behind the counter and Connie speaks up.  
“Anyway, Jean, this is an old friend of mine, Marco. He just moved here!”  
Marco, smiles and waves to me. Dork.  
“Hey.”  
I say, a smile forming on my face. I slap the money on the counter and let Sasha choose. She always chooses some ridiculous treat and massive coffee, can’t say I’ll complain. Coming here is probably the only time I actually eat.  
“What do you want, Marco?”  
He laughs nervously, and waves away Sasha’s offer.  
“Nah, I’m on a diet.”  
I make a face. Diet? What for? I look at his torso. He looks a little pudgy, but nothing to be concerned about. It’s cute. Whatever, the man can do whatever he wants. 

After a somewhat filling meal (of chocolate cake, a sandwich, and a latte) I decide to go home and clean up the mess of blood and broken glass. I push myself up from my seat, making it squeak loudly, startling Marco and Connie, who are chatting in the corner.  
“Sorry. Anyway, I’ll be going home now!” I wave at the two of them.  
“Ok, say hi to Eren for me! I haven’t seen him in ages.”  
I try not to cringe at Eren’s mention.  
“Ok, I sure will. You’ll be here often, Marco?”  
I hope so, he seems nice, and I could do with more friends. Sasha and Connie are great, but having a married couple as your only friends can get a little awkward on outings.  
“Yeah. It’s nice here, plus I’m going to start work here.”  
I blush.  
“Nice, bye.”  
I briskly walk out the door, wondering if bleach will be able to remove my blood stains.

I arrive home, slowly opening the door. Eren shouldn’t be home, but I don’t want any surprises. Of course, he isn’t. I move into the kitchen, cringing at the sight of my blood. There’s a lot. That, combined with the broken glass, it looks like a crime scene. I hope it didn’t stain. I should have cleaned it up in the morning. Oh well, no use crying over spilled milk, I move over to the cupboard, pilfer through it a bit, before finally finding what I was looking for. A bottle of bleach. I don’t bother with gloves, it’s diluted anyway. Placing the bleach on the bench, and start picking up the glass piece. I’ll have to vacuum up the tiny shards, but I can do that after I clean everything else up first.

After several cuts and lots of elbow grease filled hours later, I’m finally finished cleaning up the kitchen. The blood was a pain-in-the-ass to clean, the hours it took me to get to cleaning letting the blood dry up. Whatever. I’m finished now, the rest of the house it fine, no one ever goes into the back room anymore, and the only rooms Eren ever visits are the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and sometimes lounge. I walk out into the dining room. Yesterday’s dinner is still sitting there. Uck. 

 

I hear the door crack open and jump at the noise, spinning around. I check my watch;  
5:29pm  
Shit! Eren shouldn’t be ready, and dinner isn’t done yet. Shit, I’m fucked. I stand in the doorway, nervous. The footsteps grow louder as they round the corner. Standing, in our living room is Connie Springer.  
“Connie!” I say, smiling off my nerves. This is worse, fuck, he can’t be here.”  
“Hey Jean, I came to visit Eren.”  
My heart skips a beat, or four, and my breathing restricts. Don’t you dare have a panic attack, Jean.  
“He’s not here.” Connie sinks a little.  
“When will he come home?”  
I rock on my heels, fumbling with my hands. I need a good lie, and now. If I say he won’t be home tonight, he’ll ask where he is, and try call him or something. Not that he’ll answer, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was passed out somewhere.  
“Not for a while more. Come back tomorrow, maybe he’ll be home?”  
It’s a lie, he won’t be, but I need to get Connie out, now. Quick watch check;  
5:35pm.  
I take a deep breath. Its ok, I still have 25 minutes, I can get him out in time. Connie stands there for a moment, a question on the tip of his tongue, but he closes his mouth and turns around, shouting ‘bye’ and flicking me a backwards wave, and finally, leaving. A sigh of relief leaves my lips. He’s safe.


	4. Memo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh oh, you couldn’t bring it back,”  
> His voice is soft.  
> “Who wouldn’t want it when he looks like that?”  
> His eyes meet mine.  
> “Oh oh, I want you to stay,”  
> I look away.  
> “And if I try my hardest would you look my way?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn't my best writing, but I still like it, it's my first time writing something like this!  
> I'm in school right now, so I can't give you the link, but the song Marco sings is "memo" by Years and Years. They're an amazing band (I absolutely love them) and memo is an amazing song. I would definitely check out Years and Years Memo and some of their other songs, trust me you'll love them!

That night I dream of the pretty freckled boy with sad eyes. His tanned skin illuminated by soft sunlight, his chocolate brown hair shining and his eyes look sad, but kind. He smiles at me, lips calling out my name. I reach out to him, world blurring as I do so, before I’m cruelly awoken with a jolt. I crack open my eyes, the sunlight coming through my window blinding me. I sit up slowly, head pounding as I do. The space next to me is empty.   
Of course.  
Eren didn’t come home last night. And he obviously didn’t come back today. I stayed up till 3 waiting for him. When he didn’t show, I just gave up. I check the ugly, grey clock on my wall.   
12:22  
Blargh. I swing my legs over the side of the bed. The still hurt from the beatings, bruises littering my thighs. I trudge downstairs and check the cupboards. No coffee. Typical. I’ll have to go buy some. I’ll go to Sasha’s café. They have the good shit and they sell it to me for cheap. They practically give it to me. I look down at my clothes. I never changed, so I’m still wearing my clothes from yesterday. Oh well, Connie and Sasha are practically family to me, and anyone else can fuck themselves. But for the sake of Connie’s stomach, I put on some shitty cologne, it smells like sandal wood, also known as, the worst smell ever. I hate it, but a 1pm to 7pm shift at a sandwich bar doesn’t make you rich. They have uniforms at work, I’ll change there.

 

The sun is out today, filling the air with warmth. I start the short walk to the café, keeping my eyes to the footpath as I pass Eren’s pub. If I look inside, I can see him there, drinking, or kissing some girl (even though he’s gay. I guess that doesn’t matter when you’re drunk). Our town is small, so the government doesn’t give us much money say, for things such as road repair, which explains the countless potholes filling the road. The foot path isn’t too great either, cracked and littered with rubbish. I reach the café and peer inside, and there is the pretty freckled boy. I mentally face palm. Of course he’s there, he said just yesterday he was starting work here. Oh well, no use regretting my outfit choice now. I quickly check my watch again before entering. 12:37pm. Fuck, running out of time. The bell rings as I enter, alerting Marco.  
“Jean!”  
He smiles, sporting a white apron. I smile lightly and wave. What a nerd. He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a blue piece of paper, handing it to me. I give him a confused glare.  
“It’s a concert. Tonight at 10pm, I’ll only be doing one song, but come watch me?”  
Will I be able to make it? Maybe I’ll lie and say I’m going to get Eren alcohol. Or maybe I could just sneak out.  
“What time will you be on?”  
He smiles.  
“Third, 10:15pm sharp. Be there or be square!”  
I scoff, shoving the paper into my jean pockets.  
“Whatever, dork. You better be good.”  
He nods.  
“Now, what would you like?”  
I wave him off, calling for Sasha. She comes running from the back of the store, frown plastered on her face.   
“Jean! You have work in less than half an hour! What do you want?”  
I nod.  
“I know idiot. I need coffee.”  
Sasha nods, pulling some off the shelf and shoving it against my chest.  
“On the house, now get moving you little shit.”  
I smile gently, rolling my eyes at her. I walk towards the door, flicking Marco a wave (who of course waves back extremely enthusiastically. Nerd) and exit the café. Taking in the warm air of the early afternoon, I make the short walk towards work. The two shops are practically neighbours, the walk only taking me 5 minutes. I don’t bother returning home, I can keep coffee in my locker for a couple of hours I’m sure.

 

\---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- 

 

After 6 hours of tedious sandwich making, my shift is finally over. I change out of the uniform, getting back into my normal clothes (grabbing my coffee of course) and make my way home. The night is dark already, and the air cool, wind chilling me. I pull my jacket closer. I walk past the pub and notice Eren’s car gone from the pub. Fuck, I guess he’s home. I jog the last part home, ignoring how faint I feel, or how not eating all day is making me see black in my vision. I reach my house, fiddling with the doorknob, finding it unlocked. I quietly enter, slipping off my shoes and tip toeing inside. I peer into the lounge and find Eren fast asleep on the couch. I let out a sigh of relief. He’s out cold. Maybe I will be able to go see Marco easier than I thought. I pull the blanket from the end of our couch down, over Eren, kissing his forehead. I smile lightly. That’s the first contact I’ve had with him that isn’t non-consensual sex (I’m the one not consenting) or his fist.

 

I march (quietly) upstairs and pick out some clean clothes, making sure to pull the concert ticket Marco gave me out of my pocket, looking over the details. I smile, I’m front row. I only met the boy yesterday, and he’s already inviting me to music shows. What a dork. Whatever, as I’ve said, I need some friends other than a married couple. Not third wheeling every time I’m with my friends would be nice. I riffle through my drawers, pulling out the first pair of jeans I see. They’re a weird pastel blue. Very Eren. I put them on, followed by a plain black tee. OOD kids. I spin around to face the full length mirror in my (our) bedroom, running my hands through my hair. Eh, good enough. I look at the address of the venue and groan. It’s 30 minutes away, and that’s by car. Thank god Eren’s home. I need the car. Thankfully I have my own set of keys, I have no clue where Eren’s are. Probably in his pocket. I check the clock. 9:00pm. I shrug my shoulders. Might as well leave now and get there early, maybe I can see Marco before the show. I silently make my way downstairs, being careful to not wake the still sleeping Eren. I quietly open the front door, shutting and locking it behind me, for Eren’s safety. Our town is so small, I doubt anyone would try rob us or anything, but I neurotic. I get in the car, turning on the gas, and driving away from my house, a sick sense of freedom filling me.

 

I arrive at the venue 9:32pm. I enter through the front door and look around, taking in the place. It’s a small theatre, not very impressive, with black plastic chairs taking up most of the space, a small stage near the back. I make my way to the front, scanning for Marco. I spot him on stage, talking animatedly with another man. He’s short, with a middle part, and resting bitch face. As I get closer I can see he’s wearing a, cravat? Odd fashion choice, but then again, I guess I can’t really talk. Marco spots me and waves like a mad man, making me laugh. God, this guy is the biggest nerd I’ve ever met, and I love it.  
“Jean!”  
He calls.   
“Hey, Marco.”  
The shorter man looks me up and down, looking at me with, empathetic eyes?   
“Jean, this is my friend, Levi.”  
Levi actually smiles, he’s actually quite attractive, you know, when he actually smiles.  
“Hey, so you’re the poor soul that got dragged here.”  
Marco scoffs. I shake my head.  
“Nah, I’m actually excited.”  
Marco’s face lights up, his eyes glistening.  
“Really?! Because, well I was given a ticket and I couldn’t think of anyone who would want to see this but maybe Jean.”  
He rushes out. Levi rolls his eyes, I just laugh.  
“Whatever, come on, I need to warm my voice up, bye Jean, see you after the show.”  
He drags Levi away before I get the chance to reply. Shrugging, I go find my seat, ignoring the anxiety rising from the pit of my stomach.

 

After 20 minutes on my phone, the show starts. The first act is a female with short red hair, quite pretty I guess. After her is an enormously tall guy, with brown hair, who looks incredibly nervous. Butterflies erupt in my stomach, Marco’s next. He walks out on stage, looking relaxed. The music starts, slow piano filling my ears. He takes a deep breath and says the first words.  
“Are you gonna hurt, are you gonna burn, gonna answer me?”  
I swear my heart exploded in that moment.   
“Let me take your heart, love you in the dark, no one has to see. I want more, I want more. I want more, I want more.”  
He walks around the stage slowly, voice smooth like silk. He looks out at the crowd, then closes his eyes.  
“OO you see yourself in another way, I try my best but I don’t ever change. Oo, I love to watch your body lie, makes me feel better, makes me feel satisfied.”  
My focus is completely on him, ignoring everything else around him. I lean forward in my chair, completely enchanced by his voice.  
“Oh oh, you couldn’t bring it back,”  
His voice is soft.  
“Who wouldn’t want it when he looks like that?”  
His eyes meet mine.  
“Oh oh, I want you to stay,”  
I look away.  
“And if I try my hardest would you look my way?”  
His voice grows louder, stronger, as he starts the chorus.  
“Are you gonna hurt, are you gonna burn, gonna answer me, let me take your heart, love you in the dark, no one has to see. I want more, I want more. I want more, I want more.”  
I can feel myself slowly falling love.


End file.
